I packed you up in a box. Every memory we’d made. Everything you’d given me, or we’d acquired together. I was shocked that so many emotions could fit in such a tiny package. Then again, we didn’t have a lot of time together. And what we did have was filled with an inability to meet each other in the space we most needed to be understood.
I put the box in the car and dropped it off at Second Hand Rose. I hope the karma it contained doesn’t destroy any more lives. There was a lot of love in that box. But it also held a festering splinter buried deep in my soul. The time had come to remove it lest it leave a permanent scar on my spirit.
So here’s to a final farewell. May the little light up star with the forest scene enchant a child as they walk past the window. And the big vase be filled with flowers and everlasting love. May the wine rack be stocked with the finest vintage of hope and togetherness.
And, should none of this come to pass, someone else can run away in the shoes you bought me. I never could get used to them. They felt so good when I put them on but my feet always hurt at the end of the day. In retrospect, those shoes were so very much like our love; all warm and comfortable in the beginning but full of pain and heartbreak in the end.